


closeness

by squidmemesinc



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Massages, Mentions of Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-26 11:52:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5003767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squidmemesinc/pseuds/squidmemesinc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He can almost feel how warm he is from this distance, as it radiates off of him across the gap. He could just extend his arm and brush over his spine with his fingers, marking the contrast between their skin tones, and feel that heat on his palm. He probably wouldn’t even wake up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	closeness

**Author's Note:**

> I thought, for some reason, that watching There Will Be Blood would be a good thing to do before going to sleep ??? I'm never going bowling again.
> 
> I've been meaning to write something for this ship for a while and /technically/ I started writing something else but it's weird as fuck and very niche so I'm going to pretend I'm normal for a little bit.
> 
> HEY FIN where are you

Kenjirou wakes up to moderate discomfort in the lower regions of his body, and his first thought with regards to this is ‘ _Why in the hell?’_ And then he opens his eyes and remembers. The ‘why’ is lying next him on his side, facing away from him, body moving gently with the rhythm of his unconscious breathing. Kenjirou shifts himself, trying to lessen the ache without much success. However, it doesn’t seem to get that much worse if he lies on his stomach, side, or back, so he settles on the last and tries to go back to sleep.

He waits, eyes closed, listening to Ushijima’s body pump air quietly in and out of his lungs and the gentle whir of the ceiling fan as the blades cut through the air. Nothing comes to him, least of all sleep. He shifts again onto his side and faces Ushijima’s back, tracing over the lines of muscle with his eyes. His body sticks up out of the bed so much further than Kenjirou’s, and extends further down across it. Kenjirou wonders how his own body is even still in one piece, after last night. He can’t help but smile privately to himself thinking about it, until the thought begins to make him wince. He decides to save reminiscing for a later date and returns his attention to Ushijima’s back.

He can almost feel how warm he is from this distance, as it radiates off of him across the gap. He could just extend his arm and brush over his spine with his fingers, marking the contrast between their skin tones, and feel that heat on his palm. He probably wouldn’t even wake up. Quietly, with as little movement as he can manage, Kenjirou moves across the space until he’s only a couple centimeters away. He swallows and lets his hands fall away from his own body, resting lightly on the thick muscle that guards Ushijima’s ribs. There’s no response, other than a slightly deeper inhale, and he lets out a breath of his own. He takes one more chance and leans his forehead against Ushijima’s shoulder, and just like he thought, it’s warm and comfortable here under the blankets, pressed up against him. The fan moves little strands of his bangs across his face, but he’s comfortable (except for the one thing, but it’s not like he wasn’t prepared for that).

They stay like that for a few minutes before Kenjirou dares to move again. He slowly uncurls his fingers from the loose fist they were closed in and presses his fingers lightly against the skin, feeling the gentle way they move with the rest of Ushijima’s body when he does. In another couple of seconds, he’s shifting—a big shift, too, not just a small readjustment. Kenjirou panics and scoots back as Ushijima flattens himself on his back, then rolls over to face him. Kenjirou’s heart is pounding, though he’s not sure why he’s afraid to touch Ushijima even though they’ve already had sex (a lot of sex). But he just seems so unreachable.

Until he opens his eyes and smiles sleepily at Kenjirou. “Good morning.”

Kenjirou swallows again. “’Morning.” He’s not expecting Ushijima to throw an arm around him, now holding him to his chest, which is somehow even warmer than his back. He feels self-conscious about breathing hard onto Ushijima’s pecs and lies still and tense. He can feel Ushijima’s legs against his; apparently he put on pants at some point. The cotton is soft and well-worn against his bare skin and he feels self-conscious about being only in his underwear.

“Are you okay?” Kenjirou gets the feel he’s closed his eyes again, and his thumb is working back and forth across his back. He can feel where he’s got a callous around the edge of his nails, but the scratch is nice. It feels strangely more intimate than the sex.

“Yeah,” Kenjirou whispers back.

He doesn’t answer right away, drawing in another deep breath. Kenjirou feels like he could probably live comfortably in Ushijima’s lungs. “You seem tense,” he says. His voice is gravelly and rough, bringing back memories. Oh boy. He shivers.

“It hurts a little,” he admits quietly, though that’s not the reason he’s tense. He feels stupid as soon as he’s said it. What good is telling him going to do?

Ushijima rubs his palm over Kenjirou’s shoulder. “Do you want a massage?”

He laughs a little at that. “What, really?”

“Yes?” The sleepiness has left Ushijima voice enough for him to sound like his normal self when someone says something that goes over his head, but it’s still deep and unfairly sultry.

Kenjirou feels like he waits too long to reply, since he’s weighing the pros and cons and possible ways this could be executed, but finally he says, “Okay.”

Ushijima separates himself from him and sits up. “Lie on your stomach.” This was one of the possible outcomes. Kenjirou hides his warm face in the pillow and crosses his arms under it. Ushijima climbs over him and lowers himself down on his thighs. “Am I too heavy?”

“No,” Kenjirou says. He is heavy, but he thinks his thighs can take it. Another shiver runs through him when he feels Ushijima’s hands on his shoulders, strong, thick thumbs pressing into his trapezius. He squeezes the muscle with his palms, working loose knots Kenjirou wasn’t aware he had. He moves down, kneading more skin in Kenjirou’s back, over the broad, flat part, pressing his fingers into the sides of his ribs, and down closer to his sacrum. Kenjirou twitches when he goes lower.

“Does it hurt?”

“No,” he gasps. It’s just weird, being touched like this. He’s wanted—well, not this exactly, but something like it—for a long time, and he finally got it, and more. It’s surreal, and it hasn’t hit him yet. He’s waiting for the catch, but part of him thinks if there was one, Ushijima might have kicked him out of his bed and out of his house already, and he certainly wouldn’t be giving him a massage. He tries to relax his muscles as Ushijima works on them, and as it starts to work, he enjoys it more. He almost falls asleep, because he doesn’t realize it’s over until the bed is shifting again and Ushijima’s moving off him. He wakes up, but his legs don’t. Casualties of war. “Thank you,” he says, half into the pillow.

“You are welcome, Shirabu.”

“Kenjirou,” he corrects, voice soft. He had called him that last night, once, and it had been nice.

“You should call me Wakatoshi, then.”

Kenjirou nods as he pushes his face into the pillow to hide a smile, stifling the motion so he’s not sure it’s recognizable. He peeks up with one eye to see Ushiji—Wakatoshi watching him. He turns on his side again, doing so in a way that brings them closer together. They’re so close, he could just— Wakatoshi meets him halfway to the kiss, putting his hand on Kenjirou’s shoulder. It’s soft and closed-mouthed, as neither one of them wanting to share the taste in their mouths with the other. Kenjirou licks his lips when they pull apart, and when they press together again, it’s smoother, softer.

It doesn’t last long, and when they’re done he stays facing Wakatoshi’s neck, realizing his hands are pressed up against his warm chest again. It’s a warmth he could get used to.


End file.
